The world had just stopped. The loud, chaotic symphony of the dining hall, the easy chatter of our friends, even the constant, low hum of the great overhead fans—all of it just faded away. In that instant, my universe was reduced to a single point: her. I saw nothing else, heard nothing else.
I think I'll try the chess club then.
A profound shock, cold and absolute, fractured my composure. My mask of calm didn't just shatter; it splintered with the force of a tectonic plate shifting. Every muscle in my neck seized, a vice of pure disbelief tightening around my throat. My body, which had been so still in my chair, felt like a ship that had just hit a hidden reef—motionless on the surface, but its foundation was crumbling beneath. The soundless plea of a general who had just realized his entire army was marching into a trap he had set for someone else, his eyes full of shock and desperation, were all directed at her, as if silently asking: Why?
Then, as if understanding my silent anguish, her lips curved into a smile, a tiny, genuine gesture that was a fragile light in the storm. And in that moment, for one heart-stopping second, she was not just a girl in a dining hall. Her beauty, her poise, and the daring courage in her eyes all spoke to a perfect, beautiful lie, one I was so desperate to believe. It was the ethereal grace of a fairy, the impossible truth of a creature from myth, a vision so pure and terrifying that the mature heart of a man began to pound with the wild, agonizing beat of a boy's.
Every fiber of my being screamed. Not with fear, not with panic, but with a desperate, all-consuming urge to confess. To kneel before this beautiful, terrifying fairy and pour out the hollow years I had lived without her. To tell her the truth of my second life and the broken map that had led me back to her. To abandon my carefully constructed strategy, to let go of the long game, and to simply, finally, embrace the impossible reality of her presence. What was captured in my eyes was not just her ethereal self, but also a key, one that could unlock every secret, every carefully guarded wall I had built around my chest. But it was also a key that could send me back down the path of a past I was so desperate to escape.
My mind, though seated and frozen, was in the eye of that storm. Her words were a hammer that shattered the glass of my careful composure. She wasn't just making a statement; she had made a move. The long game I had been so carefully playing was over, as she had forced me onto a new board with her already having the first move.
She started a prolonged explanation. "Remember the poet?" The world spun again. My old map, the one I had been using to navigate this new life, was not just broken. It was gone. In my past life, the past I was so desperately trying to fix, she had only told me about her poetry after we had known each other for a long time. Now, she was telling me on the very first day. This was a lie she wasn't ready to tell. And this was a truth I was never supposed to know.
I looked at her, searching for something in her soul. But her gaze had turned sharp, her small smile unreadable. The fear was still there in the back of my mind, but it was overshadowed by a new, more frightening kind of dread. This wasn't about winning her affection anymore. This was a fight for the game called alternate future, and she was the only one who seemed to know the rules.
The silence between us was immense, a heavy, suffocating blanket that pressed down on my lungs. I could feel the seconds stretching out, each one a silent accusation. My pulse was a frantic rhythm against the quiet stillness of the air, and for the first time, I felt truly helpless. We just stared at each other, as if she were enjoying the effect of breaking my composure. But just as the weight of the moment became unbearable, a voice, loud and cheerful, broke the spell.
"Have you guys done yet?" June's voice, a welcome intrusion, echoed from behind me. I turned to see him holding an empty cup of water. He had clearly sensed the suffocating air, and with the intuition of a true friend, he had returned. "It's about time. We need to hurry back before we miss the dorm briefing with the housemaster."
I nodded, the simple action feeling like a great effort. I glanced back at Vye, forcing a faint, friendly smile that felt like a lie. "Well, seems like it's time to go," I said, my voice flat but calm. "Please, head inside first."
Vye didn't respond immediately, but a flicker of something in her eyes, a mixture of recognition and confusion, was all the answer I needed. A small, self-possessed smile touched her lips as she rose. "Okay," she said, her voice soft but clear. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"
I simply nodded, my pulse still a frantic drum. I watched her stand and walk toward her dormitories, her form a graceful silhouette against the fading light. Only when she had disappeared did I turn and follow June, my mind already racing to a place where I could be alone with my thoughts.
My old life had been a simple puzzle, and I thought I had all the pieces. But this new life, this terrifying second chance, was not a puzzle I could solve. It was a living, breathing thing, an unfolding lie, and I was no longer the only one trying to figure it out. My navigation chart was gone, and the fortress of my plan had been breached. I had just found out I was playing a game of chess against a player who seemed to know my moves even before I made them.